In Which the Cats Talk
by Wishing-for-a-Wand
Summary: Telemain always wanted to be able to understand Morwen's cats. Since their marriage, it is even more important that he know what they're saying. Even when he manages a magical break-through, will the cats and the magician ever really understand one another?


In Which the Cats Talk

* * *

It finally worked. Telemain had been working on this spell for almost two years. The idea had actually been rattling around in his brain for over two decades, and at last it worked.

At least, it should work. The magician blinked through the lingering fog that was a necessary, if inconvenient feature of the spell. He heard a softly mewed cough and glanced down to where a small gray kitten sat on a large gray rock.

The kitten coughed again. It's name was Fungus, and it was by far his favorite of Morwen's cats. The young cat had taken an immediate liking to Telemain for reasons unknown, and the little thing enjoyed following him around. This wasn't always bad, however, as even a young witch's cat could be helpful in matters of magic.

Fungus was especially useful in this particular experiment. It had long been Telemain's ambition to perfect a spell that would allow him to understand the cats he lived with. Since his marriage to Morwen over a year ago, going on two, he had lived with no fewer than nine felines. Being witch's cats, each could speak and be understood by the witch they belonged to. This nifty feature did not, however, extend to the witch's magician husband. At least not without some tampering.

Which was exactly what he had been trying to do, identify an additive solution that would extend the spell without negating any of its favorable properties, such as the ability for select understanding. Morwen would not be pleased if he managed to make the entire Enchanted Forest understand her cats.

And they were very much her cats. Even after years spent in their company, living in the same cottage, devoted to the same woman, the cats would never be considered his. While many of them had consigned themselves to live with his presence, there were others, many among the older cats, who appeared consistently insulted by his ability to draw breath.

It wasn't as though Telemain didn't have an idea what they were saying about him. He gathered quite a lot from their haughty meows and the scalding looks that Morwen sent their way. When it was a matter of relevance, she translated. When the cats were being rude, she pointedly evaded his queries. He'd learned that cats were often rude.

But this was exactly the sort of reason that Telemain had decided to pursue this new spell. For practicality's sake, it would make life easier if he could understand the cats. It was also a personal matter of pride. The magician had overheard more than one conversation between Morwen and the cats in which she'd been defending him. If he could confront their complaints with clear understanding, perhaps the group of them could learn to live peaceably under one roof.

There was another soft cough to startle him from his musings. "Did it work?" asked an excited voice from somewhere below him in the fog. Telemain stooped next to the rock and peered intently at the kitten. Fungus sneezed and blinked rapidly.

The magician's face broke into a wide grin. "What did you say?"

Fungus stared patiently at Telemain. "I asked if it worked?" His voice was a high pitched kitten voice and his boundless excitement and slow understanding reminded Telemain of a human child. He'd always known they could talk, but it was a wonder to hear the cat speaking to him.

"Yes, Gus," he smiled, patting the kitten affectionately on the head. "We've done it at last."

The small cat jumped happily twice on the big rock where he sat and then sailed off of it to the ground. "Oh boy, oh boy! I'm going to go tell everyone!"

Telemain scooped the tiny gray cat into one hand before he could get far away. "Not just yet, little one. A discovery such as this requires extensive and thorough comparison and documentation." Fungus made a soft mewing noise of confusion that either didn't translate or included no words.

"By which I mean," Telemain clarified, "that we have yet to ascertain whether or not I will be able to understand the other cats or if the spell is only temporary." He smiled and stroked his neat black beard. "Besides, I am not about to waste this opportunity by revealing it too soon."

He set Fungus back onto the rock where the little kitten stared up at him with bulbous green eyes. "You mean, I can't tell anyone?"

Telemain shook his head. "Not just yet. But soon; I doubt we'll be able to keep our secret long." He smiled. Even if they were able to conceal his new power from the other cats, there was no possibility of him sneaking it past Morwen.

The little cat looked pensive and rubbed a white socked paw across his nose. "I'll try." Man and feline strode back to the cottage, where Telemain suspected he would find another of the cats and be able to test his new ability.

Just before they reached the cottage, Telemain stopped his furry sidekick. "Fungus, you run along. I'm going to stay here and see if I can hear the other cats. And remember," he warned, holding a silencing finger to his lips, "Don't tell anyone."

The kitten nodded happily and scampered off into the bushes, meandering back to the garden. Telemain watched him go and fervently hoped the young cat would remember his instruction. He would only get one shot at this, and he didn't want to lose it.

Walking slowly and deliberately closer to the house, Telemain readied his plan. He peered out of the trees when he could see the front porch. Morwen had left home earlier to pay a visit to Cimorene at the palace, and he didn't expect his wife back until later in the day. The cats, however, were everywhere. On the front porch alone were congregated several of the older cats. It was the perfect setup and the perfect opportunity.

In his two years married to Morwen, Telemain had eventually learned which names applied to which cats. And so he could say with relative certainty that it was Murgatroyd perched on the porch rail and Miss Eliza Tudor cleaning her paws on the front step. Chaos was rolling contentedly in the lawn, and Jasmine was stretched out on the window sill. As the magician watched, Trouble peeked his head up from under the porch and Scorn walked haughtily around the side of the house to join the others.

Morwen would say she didn't have a favorite of the cats, but if she did Scorn would be it. As for Telemain, Scorn would likely be his least favorite of the cats. None of this group particularly cared for him, and Trouble had been quite fond of making him look a fool in the early days of his marriage, but it was Scorn whose wrath he could feel most. Even without the ability to hear their speech, he'd known whatever words she had for him had never been pleasant.

Now the trick would be to direct whatever conversation he might hear. If he was going to test this spell, he was going to do it for the maximum result. Stepping back onto the path through the trees, he exited the forest and walked, with what he hoped was a casual gait, towards the cottage.

He could feel the cats eyes on him as he passed, intentionally keeping his distance and walking by. Leaving their line of sight, he raised and twirled his left index finger, transporting himself back to his place in the tree line. Crouching down behind a large bush, he performed a hearing enhancement charm and waited.

He was quickly rewarded. Jasmine, whom he'd thought was asleep, said with her eyes still closed, "He's gone now, isn't he?"

Telemain grinned. He could hear them. He could understand them. His spell was a success.

Miss Eliza looked up from scrubbing her paws. "Yes," she sniffed aristocratically. "Finally."

"Hey!" Trouble exclaimed from under the porch, "We could do something to him. Morwen's not here today." Even from Telemain's vantage point, he could see the smirk on that feline face.

Murgatroyd bounded off the porch rail, surprisingly agile for a cat of his age. "Yeah, but she'll be back, and then you'll be in trouble."

Trouble looked affronted. "Why me?"

Chaos answered him. "Because it's always you. And Morwen knows that."

The troublemaker yawned, the feline equivalent of a careless shrug. "It would still be fun. I don't know why Morwen cares so much."

Miss Eliza stared fixedly at a flitting butterfly. "She cared enough to marry him."

"And I'll never know why," Jasmine said, arching her back. "He's so," here she yawned, tiredly, "boring."

The spying magician leaned forward in anticipation. This was exactly the conversation he'd hoped to overhear. This would give him exactly the information he needed to combat their disapproval of him.

Murgatroyd paced the edge of the porch. "He's just a cranky, old magician."

Cranky, old magician. Technically, there was probably nothing inaccurate in that statement.

"He talks too much," Chaos said, rolling to his feet and heading toward his apple tree.

Telemain huffed softly and stroked his short goatee. These cats could be fairly long winded themselves.

Trouble wriggled his way out from under the porch, eager to contribute. "He talks about things no one cares about!"

The cats might not care about his discourse on magical matters, but Morwen could appreciate it.

Miss Eliza, too, was impatient to offer her opinion of him. "He has fewer feelings than even the average human," she said snobbishly.

That seemed uncalled for. While it was perhaps true that he was not adept at expressing emotions, it did not mean they were absent from his makeup entirely.

Telemain adjusted his position in the bushes, hearing his joints pop in protest. He cringed, but didn't think he was near enough for the cats to hear. He listened carefully as Scorn stood superiorly.

"He doesn't deserve her."

The magician didn't hear anything that was said next. All he could hear were those words echoing in his head. He doesn't deserve her.

It was true, of course. He didn't deserve Morwen. Couldn't do anything to change that. Telemain considered those words for another few long moments before standing stiffly. He had all the information he needed. The cats' opinions of him couldn't have been clearer. And, as he'd always suspected, it was Scorn's that was the harshest.

He stepped back onto the path and again exited the trees. The cats were no longer talking as they stared at him, but each looked unconcerned about his sudden appearance from an area he'd long ago vacated. They also looked unaffected in terms of their conversation matter. As he drew nearer, Trouble drawled, "Well, what do you know? Look who's back."

This time, Telemain did not skirt around the cats. He walked directly to them, his blue eyes solemn. The five cats in front of him stared indifferently back. "What does he want?" Miss Eliza wondered, unaware that the subject of her question was now capable of hearing it.

"I wanted to tell you that you're right," the magician said. Inwardly, he cringed; he might never live this down. But he would say it anyway.

The cats stared at him, their eyes widening. It could have been coincidence that he replied to the unheard question, and the cats seemed unwilling to believe that it was anything but.

Deciding the game was up, he spoke again. "I heard everything you said about me."

He wouldn't have thought their eyes could get any wider. Murgatroyd hissed in shock, Trouble hit his head on the porch, and Miss Eliza stumbled off the first step. This statement roused Jasmine enough that she opened both eyes, and Chaos skidded to a stop in the grass on the way to his tree. Scorn sat perfectly still, huge green eyes daring him to confirm it.

Telemain decided he would do just that. "I heard you," he paused for a short sigh, "And you're right." His blue eyes traveled over each of the felines present, who even after two years couldn't seem to stand him in the least. They certainly couldn't understand him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the small, gray kitten that was Fungus bounding along the path around the house. He was coming straight for him, but stopped when he noticed the other cats' looks of deep concentration. Telemain smiled briefly at the youngest cat, but turned his eyes and his words back to the older ones.

"It may be that I'm boring and a cranky, old magician. Perhaps your accusations that I talk too much are not completely unfounded. It's even conceivable that I talk about things in which you have little or no interest."

Telemain paused to watch each of the cats whose complaints he'd addressed act somewhat sheepishly. Jasmine yawned and closed one eye, Murgatroyd refused to look his direction, Chaos rubbed his nose with his paw, and Trouble started chasing an imaginary mouse. Where cats were concerned, these were almost apologetic gestures.

But those were the easy grievances to address. "You might even be correct to say that I express fewer emotions than the average human. However, this does not mean I am without feelings." He stared pointedly back at the cats, letting them know how said feelings had been affected by their gossip. Miss Eliza had the grace to stare at the ground.

"And, Scorn," he said, focusing fully in her direction, "You were the most right of all. I don't deserve her." Telemain let that sink in. Many of the other cats glanced over with interest, but Scorn gave no hint that she cared one way or the other.

"I don't deserve her," he repeated, "But two years ago, she said yes anyway." The cats were perfectly silent. "I don't deserve her, and I'm not good at saying it, but I love her."

Telemain smiled. "I love her." The cats all stared. "And I know you do, too. You understand me, and now I understand you. I know we won't always get along, can almost guarantee it, but for Morwen, can we try?"

It was quiet a heartbeat longer, as the cats all gaped at him. Then Scorn, whose gaze had never wavered, gave a very human nod. "For Morwen, we can try."

The other cats quickly followed this agreement with pledges of their own. Telemain smiled. There were no guarantees, but this was a colossal step in a happier direction. As soon as they'd each given their promise to try, the cats wandered off in different directions, Chaos to his apple tree, Jasmine to a new napping place, Murgatroyd and Miss Eliza to go mousing, Trouble to cause just that, and Scorn to go do who knew what.

Telemain let out the breath he'd been holding. That had gone far and above his expectations. He stood in front of the porch a moment longer and sent a small wave to Fungus who bounced happily and scurried off. The magician patted his pockets, wondering if perhaps something had fallen out while he'd been hiding in that bush. He turned back to the tree line and saw her standing there.

The diminutive, ginger woman walked toward him, broomstick in hand. Her hair was in its customary style, held up by magic, but a few reddish wisps had escaped and framed her face in a way her husband found endearing. Her hazel eyes behind her rectangular glasses pierced him, and she arched an eyebrow in a familiar gesture.

He took a few steps in her direction, and they met in the middle of the path to the cottage. An embarrassed smile crept across his face. "You're home earlier than I expected," he attempted by way of greeting.

Morwen's eyebrow remained raised. "I see that."

"I suppose you heard that, too?" he asked, awkwardly, nodding to the porch now free of cats.

His wife's expression softened. "Yes," she said simply. They walked in step up the path, he shortening his strides to match hers. As they reached the porch, she smiled up at him. "I think you might have even convinced them."

Telemain caught her hand as she reached for the door. Holding it in both of his, his blue eyes sought out her hazel ones. "I meant every word."

He'd never been good at saying things like this; the cats had been absolutely right on this subject. Still, he'd try to say it, because she needed to know.

The broom was leaned against the door, and her free hand brushed an errant strand of dark hair from his forehead. "I know," she told him, never one to mince words. "And thank you for that."

Standing on tiptoe, Morwen leaned up to kiss him lightly. Telemain smiled and deepened the kiss, marveling at the fact that this was his life. They stood on the porch in an uncharacteristically obvious display of affection until they were interrupted by a young kitten's voice.

"Ew, gross."

Fungus sat on the railing, his nose wrinkled in disgust. Telemain laughed at the tiny cat, and in another rare instance, he heard Morwen's light chuckle join his.

"So you can understand the cats now," the witch observed unnecessarily. "That will come in handy."

The magician nodded. "Yes, I was finally able to isolate the linguistic nuance of the enchantment. That made all the difference."

"It would," she agreed. "You then applied an expanding spell to the existing spell structure?"

"Actually, I applied an inclusionary spell, multiplied the calculations by the approximate number of subjects, and was able to see results through the utilization of one instance."

"In plain English, please, Telemain."

Still hand in hand, the couple walked into the cottage. Morwen picked up the discarded broomstick, and Telemain reached out to ruffle Fungus' fur. Today marked the birth of an unparalleled magical discovery. It also recognized the start of a noticeable change in his life in the Enchanted Forest. But as he followed his wife into their home, Telemain knew that the magical discovery and change that he was most grateful for and astounded by was one that had happened two years ago and continued to be everything he cared about today.


End file.
